Remember Me
by DreamsOfEdward1
Summary: <html><head></head>Outtake for "From The Darkness comes Light" written for FADV: Elizabeth, Edward and Jasper's real mother, is haunted by the choice she made to abandon her only children when they needed her most. She learns the hard way that not all wounds heal with time.</html>


**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the authors. The authors are in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Please note that the story idea behind this fiction is entirely that of the authors. Use of any portion of this fiction, without the authors' prior approval is strictly prohibited.**

**A/N This "From The Darkness Comes Light" outtake was written by me for Fandom Against Domestic Violence. Thank you so much to my talented friend and beta SparklingWand (Jeanne) and my beautiful proof reader TwiMoments (Jackie) without you guys I would be lost.**

**~x~**

**'From Darkness Comes the Light'**

**A Twilight Fan Fiction **

**By: DreamsOfEdward1**

**Outtake: **

**~Remember Me~**

_A Mother's Pain_

The cold cuts through me  
>My own blood coats me<br>I want to feel warm  
>But all I can do is weep<p>

He beats me, breaks me,  
>Leaves me hurt and defeated<br>Alone and depressed  
>I beg for forgiveness, but he isn't impressed<p>

The gun shot  
>The smile on a young child's face<br>The light from his eyes grow cold  
>As he lies dying in my arms<p>

Sirens in the night  
>The screams of a young boy begging for my love<br>As I accuse him and blame him for the death  
>Of a man who would have killed me<p>

I gave up on him  
>I walked away<br>A regret I live with everyday  
>My punishment<p>

His silky hair and bright green eyes  
>The tears he cried<br>The night he took his father's life  
>To save mine<p>

Now I sit alone  
>In a dark hotel room<br>A bottle as my only friend  
>Wishing I could hold him again<p>

The night grows cold  
>I know I can't hold on anymore<br>Death…my only escape  
>My last words…<p>

I love you

.

**~x~**

**~Elizabeth Masen~**

I sat here taking in the surroundings of this dark and dingy motel room, pen in hand over a sheet of paper, but I had yet to write a single word. After all, what the hell was I supposed to say that would ever explain to my boys how truly sorry I was for all the pain I had brought into their lives. How would I ever make them see the regret that had shattered my world into a thousand pieces?

I can still see him in the back of that police car, so little, so scared, the weight of the world on his shoulders. The expression on that sweet angel's face and the pain in his beautiful green eyes as he watched me, his own mother, tell him I never wanted to see him again. It haunts me to this day. If I had been a real mother, the one he deserved, I would have fucking taken him in my arms, and praised God for sending me this little angel who had just saved my life.

I couldn't see it though, not then anyway, not when it mattered the most. No, not even the next day. Not even when I signed the papers, essentially giving up the only good that had ever come from my life. My two boys should have been my priority. They should have been the only thing I was concerned about, but I was too much of a damn fool to see that.

I was lost in some fantasy world, where somehow I believed that despite how many times this man had beaten me up, or put me in the hospital, or threatened his own children, that he did it all out of love. If anyone was to blame for it all, it was me for being the less than perfect wife. I made myself believe that I deserved the punishment. If I were a better wife, a better person, then maybe I would deserve him.

Sighing and wiping the tears from my eyes, I stood and walked over to the window. I pushed back the curtains to see that the sun was finally setting. It's funny the things you notice at a time like this. I don't think I've ever realized before how beautiful a sunset can actually be. Even through this dirty-ass window, I can still see the amazing reds, yellows and oranges lingering in the sky. The beginning of an end.

Looking out, I can't help but wonder where they are, somewhere out there in this big world. My mind drifts to the thought of how their lives turned out, wondering whether or not they are happy; and if they've found their places in this world we call a life.

I can imagine that they ended up in the loving arms of someone they could really call a mother. That she raised them with nothing but love in her heart, and that they turned out okay, despite what they had endured in their young lives. I find myself envying her. She had the opportunity to watch my sweet angels become young men; and she would continue to watch them through their lives, guiding them as they became husbands, and eventually fathers.

Thinking of their children quite literally broke my heart. I could imagine Edward's green eyes, my green eyes, staring back at me in the face of a blonde little girl. Her sweet smile lighting her little baby face. But I would never get the chance to meet my grandchildren, and that was my penance for the things I had done to my children's lives.

Closing the curtain I made my way back over to the table, where the still empty piece of paper lay. I glanced down at the page, desperately trying to will myself to find the words, with nothing coming to me. I looked up, noticing my haggard appearance in the bathroom mirror, the outside finally reflecting the inside. The shell of the young eager woman I used to be, so sure of myself, my entire life still before me. If I only knew then, what I know now...if only.

Sitting back down, I grabbed the pen again, and stared mindlessly at the paper where I was supposed to somehow put what I was feeling into words. Suddenly, I was looking into the face of a blond haired, blue eyed young man who was the mirror image of the man that lay dead on my kitchen floor, just a few feet from where we were standing. He was screaming at me, tears streaming down his face, "How could you do this to Edward, Mom? How could you do this to him?" he cried. "Do you have any idea what he did for you tonight? Any clue what you're putting him through right now? He's your damn son, and you just cast him aside as though what he's done means nothing to you! You make me sick!" he growled, hatred pouring off of him. You have no right to call yourself his mother!"

I couldn't hear what he was telling me though. I didn't want to hear it. All I could do was picture the only man I had ever loved, dead before me. All I knew was that beautiful little green eyed boy, who was my son, had put him there. I was too far gone. I was delusional enough to believe that little boy was the monster, not the man he had put a bullet into, to save me.

I watched in a daze as Jasper just shook his head at me in disgust and walk away towards his brother in that police car. Little did I realize at the time, but a part of me died inside when I saw them make eye contact, realizing that without words they were forced to say goodbye to each other; and I made no attempt to stop what was happening to them.

I brought my hand up and covered my mouth as the tears started to fall again, when the sudden realization hit me that they may have never seen each other again after that night. Of course I had imagined they had, because I couldn't face it if they hadn't. The thought of little Edward alone, without his big brother to look out for him, nearly brought me to my knees. Realistically though, I would never know for sure, and that was something I would never forgive myself for.

I glanced down at the tear-stained paper which now contained one single letter "I" and looked away again. I set the pen down, stood, and walked over to the battered wooden dresser in the corner of the room. It contained the only two possessions I'd brought with me to this place, the only two possessions I would need for the rest of my life. One of which was a full bottle of vodka.

I unwrapped the plastic cup sitting to the left of the bottle, poured a large amount into the cup, and brought it to my lips. The clear liquid didn't even burn anymore as it traveled down my throat. I'd been drinking it for so long now that I was completely desensitized to its sting. It had been my only friend for as long as I could remember, and now I cherished its effects on my body.

Having poured myself another large cup, I placed the lid back on the bottle and walked over to the bed. I took a big swig and set the cup down. As I lay back on the bed, I blankly stared at the ceiling. I'd gone to the adoption agency many times, yet never actually stepped foot inside. I don't know what I actually expected to learn by going there. I just knew at times the desire to know whether or not they were okay was so over powering that I'd find myself there, but never found the courage to walk through the door.

Edward would be eighteen years old this year, and Jasper twenty. It was hard to believe so much time had passed since I'd last seen them. My baby boys were now men, on the cusp of life.

I squeezed my eyes shut trying to block the memories that now threatened to come crashing in. Upon opening my eyes again, I was no longer in that disgusting motel room. I found myself kneeling on the floor of our old kitchen, holding what was now my dead husband in my arms. I was barely able to see out of my right eye because it was nearly swollen shut from the blows I taken from him. My clothes were ripped and soaked with his blood, and the gun that took his life lay at my feet next to him.

I look up to see a pair of frightened green eyes staring at me, begging me to save him from this nightmare. Instead of rushing to the child and protecting him like a good mother should, I was overtaken by anger and disgust. I was incapable of feeling the love and adoration for this little angel, who had most certainly just saved my life. I hated him. I literally hated my own son. He had just taken from me the only man I had ever loved, the only man in my eyes who would ever love me back.

"Edward, what have you done?" I screamed, "What have you done?" The fear leaving his eyes was suddenly replaced with utter sadness, clearly not over what he had just done, but over my reaction to it.

In an instant, as I sat there screaming at him, I watched his childhood slip away. Those sad little green pools became hollow, and the tears that had threatened to fall from them were gone. Complete devastation overtook him as the police entered the house, and pulled him to his feet and outside. Thirteen years old and he had been brave enough to put my life before his, to take the life of his own father to save me; and I had done nothing to comfort him. Nothing to tell him everything would be okay, nothing that a normal mother would have done.

It was too late. I was too far gone to ever be considered a normal mother. So lost in the fantasy, that the only thing that mattered now was the man that I loved was gone, and that little green-eyed monster had just taken him from me. I sat there for what seemed like hours holding my dead husband, but in reality it was only a few moments. I kept replaying in my head the entire night, and everything I should have done that would have prevented this from happening.

He'd come home angry because I'd been late getting home from work, and didn't have his supper ready.

_First mistake of many._

I saw little Edward out of the corner of my eye from the kitchen. Little Edward always had a habit of watching me cook. He was such an endearing child, but on this night he sat there watching his father's every move. He watched his father move towards me in the kitchen, almost as though he were stalking a prey. I could see that there wasn't the normal fear in those green eyes that was usually there when his father was in the house. No, not tonight. Tonight there was something different behind those eyes. He had the look of a man, not a child. A look that was…the only way I could describe it would be, determined.

I shook my head at him silently warning him to stay where he was, not because I feared for his safety, _no, that would have been a normal mother's reaction; _but because the look in his eyes told me that tonight would be different, that he would not let it end the way so many other nights had. He didn't see me though; he was completely focused on his father. With each step his father took towards me, he stepped towards his father. Stopping only just in the kitchen to reach above the refrigerator and grab something; _oh my god, is that a gun? _I thought.

As his father was screaming at me and raising his hand to hit me for what seemed like the billionth time, Edward raised that gun and pointed it at his father. I couldn't speak. It all seemed to happen so fast that my brain and mouth couldn't connect the dots, until it was too late.

Just as his father's hand was about to make contact with my face, Edward screamed at him, letting him know he wouldn't be touching me again. He was right. His father lost all interest in me and made a sudden move towards Edward, who stood there with that look of determination so clear in his eyes.

His father just laughed, never imagining that this little boy, his little boy would have the nerve to put a bullet in him to stop him. Everything is a blur now. I look over to Edward as his father takes one final step towards him, he screams something at him. I don't hear what he says though. I'm too focused on the smile that has now spread across Edward's face, and then I hear the gunshot. I watch in slow motion as my husband's body falls to the ground in front of me with a thud.

My eyes fly open and I'm back in the present, covered in sweat, tears streaming down my face. I hear my own screams echoing in this cold motel room-"It should have been me...It should have been me"...I chant over and over. "No, Edward, it should have been me." I see his green eyes start to fade away and reach out to touch him one last time, realizing he was never really there. I bring my hand up to wipe the tears from my face, "Oh, God, it should have been me."

Slowly I sit up, gasping for breath, trying to grasp on to what sanity I have left. All these years, all this pain, and it all comes down to one thing, fate. It should have been me that died that night. How much pain and misery would have been avoided? How many lives left unbroken, if it had only been me. If not for that beautiful little green-eyed boy, it would have been me. He and his brother could have gone through their lives with their hearts unbroken, because they never would have had to doubt for one second whether or not their mother loved them.

Standing, I am more determined than ever. I'm going to fix what fate fucked up all those years ago. I walk back over to the dresser, grab the vodka, and the last remaining possession I have left in this life; the bottle of pills that will right what's been wrong for so long.

Walking back over to the note I've yet to finish, I realize sitting down, there is nothing I can really say that will ever be enough to fully explain to them, the things I've done or the choices that I've made. I can make one thing very clear for them, so they never have to doubt it again. I pick up the pen and finish the sentence on the page "I love you." It's simple, but true. Through everything, it's the one constant that's never changed. I just couldn't see it before, through my broken body and battered heart, but it was always there. Always living and breathing, just under the surface of it all.

I set the pen back down with a shaky hand, take the cap off the vodka, and empty the entire bottle of pills into my hand. I put them in my mouth and swallow...

The sun is shining, and in the distance, I see them running towards me, smiles on their beautiful little faces. I kneel down, arms open wide, and scoop them up just as we collide with each other, hugging them tight to me. I whisper to them with tears in my eyes, "I love you."

I watch them fade away as the blackness takes hold of me. My final words lingering on my lips, "Please, remember me."


End file.
